


Highborn Beauty

by CrystalMoonlightI



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Friendship, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Love, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Passion, Pregnancy, Romance, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-02-23 19:50:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13197348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalMoonlightI/pseuds/CrystalMoonlightI
Summary: Maribelle has always lived a life of nobility. Since a young age her friends have been chosen for her. Even one of her closest playmates, who later became her personal protector; was selected by her father. Now, war rages against Valm, and that same bodyguard she's known since childhood is worried for her. Will their longtime bond become something deeper?----------"I don't see why such a thing is of issue to you, Sirus." Maribelle spoke curtly, giving a short, impatient exhale of breath. She linked her fingers together, the alignment of her delicate porcelain features falling into a soft frown. "I can of course guarantee you that with me at her side; Lady Lissa is safe from harm. None shall strike at her while I act in her defence."It wasn't Sirus' place to contest the choices of the woman whom he served, but perhaps at this moment in time, the confines of rational sense had dissolved. Maybe, just maybe, Sirus had taken leave of his position and found it proper to speak from within."That is exactly what I am concerned about, Maribelle. The fact that you have taken to the frontline too. It fills my heart with… discontent."





	1. Deepest Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> As a few of you may already know, I really enjoy Maribelle as a character. Not only that, but I've made it a mission of mine to bridge the gap in my writing and start a full sized Awakening story with a worthwhile original character. I like to put a lot of detail into anything I write.
> 
> That said, this little oneshot is a trail chapter. If you'd like to see more then please feel free to let me know. Also, feel free to leave constructive feedback on my original character, too. Do they seem realistic to Maribelle's background and fit within the wider world of Ylisse?
> 
> Either way, please enjoy the read!

The place of a lesser noble house had always been to serve those greater. No matter how many times a man stood in defence of his lady during her public engagements, held the parasol for her when the rain poured, or even wept tears of frustration in the private of his bedchambers, things didn't change. In the eyes of the greater noble houses, those beneath them would always be of _insufficient standing._ The hierarchy of Ylisse's highborn was indeed a game of posture and pretence. Nothing was done without a purpose, and that brought a great deal of pain for some.

To one however – there was no way to scrub aside all of these facts and disregard his feelings. One didn't simply blow out their treasured emotions as though they were a candle. Countless years serving one such noble woman, both as a playmate in childhood and a protector as an adult, made such things impossible.

"Do you know what I see when I gaze upon you in the mirror, Sirus?"

A question that this tall, smooth man would often ask himself when he gazed into the mirror as well – clad in his long red velvet coat and creaseless black pants, defined with the tone of muscle – armed with piercing green eyes and clean cut features. Yet this time around, the manner of speech, which his most astute lady held, was _different_ somehow.

"No, Miss Maribelle." The man known as Sirus responded to his namesake, turning to address the one whom he served. There she sat, prim and proper in an oaken dining chair in the centre of her flush tent – perhaps the most lavish tent in Prince Chrom's entire camp. "But I shall lend you my ear if you wish to indulge me."

"But of course I do, dear." Maribelle commented in brief address. Setting down her teacup with a steady hand, she stood from her place at the table, moving to take up a position at the side of the warrior in red. There they stood, shoulder to shoulder. "I see a gentleman who has been a part of my life for longer than I can fathom. From the time it was decreed by my father that we would be playmates, I have known you would always stand loyally at my side if I so wished it."

Words spoken with the poise, grace and fine mannerisms of a true highborn – one with stance and breeding above the flock. It was fitting, their arrangement. True, it was one, which had started at the whim of a powerful patriarch, but through trust, and dedication, had blossomed into something even larger. Still, if that were true, why did Sirus feel a tug in his chest at the very sight of Maribelle as of late?

"I'm thankful for your words as always, milady. Still… I must ask you a question. One that has garnered a great deal of concern on my part as of late."

Maribelle turned her full focus – eying him with intrigue and interest. "Speak freely if you feel it important. I shall not deny you such a freedom."

Most assuredly, it was a line of thought that held presidency above most things in Sirus' mind, as of late. He'd ran the finer details through his head time and again, only to reach the same outcome, and by now it troubled him beyond the norm.

"Well, Miss Maribelle." Sirus started his line of enquiery carefully, applying the due consideration. "It is in relation to Lady Lissa and her recent marriage to Sir Frederick."

"Go on." Maribelle's eyes honed in tightly – the interest upon her face at what must have seemed a very _curious_ question, all too apparent. "I do sincerely hope, Sirus, that you are not bringing the union of my darling Lissa to a man she so intently loves into question?"

Perhaps his phrasing of the inquiry made it feel as such. Sirus took a measured step back, presenting his lady with a polite bow of apology. "Of course not. It is merely the fact that since her wedding she has in turn taken a frontline role in the fighting. No longer does she stay at the rear and support our soldiers with healing. She's taken an interest in tomes and learned offensive magic."

"I don't see why such a thing is of issue to you, Sirus." Maribelle spoke curtly, giving a short, impatient exhale of breath. She linked her fingers together, the alignment of her delicate porcelain features falling into a soft frown. "I can of course guarantee you that with me at her side; Lady Lissa is safe from harm. None shall strike at her while I act in her defence."

A lump formed in Sirus' throat. Memories of his childhood shared in the presence of this astute, intelligent aristocrat consumed his very thoughts for the moment. Beyond that childhood, there was also the matter of his teenage years. Almost a decade from his thirteenth birthday until now, placed in a combat school beside Ylisse's soldiers, learning the art of swordplay and hand-to-hand fighting as a bodyguard.

It wasn't Sirus' place to contest the choices of the woman whom he served, but perhaps at this moment in time, the confines of rational sense had dissolved. Maybe, just maybe, Sirus had taken leave of his position and found it proper to speak from within

"That is exactly what I am concerned about, Maribelle. You have taken to the frontline too. It fills my heart with… _discontent_."

Maribelle found it fitting to take a step closer – wondering just what it was that her most dedicated protector made reference toward. Had his feelings as a long-time companion pushed him to worry beyond reason? The look upon his face, a most curious mixture of apology for speaking too abruptly, and honest, genuine concern brought her to push further.

"If you are concerned for my safety then I would suggest that you continue to do your duty and act as my defender during our future battles. I can see the unrest in your eyes so very clearly. As much as the past we shared is of importance to me… you too must understand that I have an obligation to Lady Lissa."

"It is not that simple, milady. In fact, this is anything but a simple matter." Sirus bowed his head under the stern expression levelled his way. It didn't seem as though she'd surrender on this day. Regardless, he pushed on as best he could. "Your safety is my number one concern and if anything were to happen then-"

"Please, hush yourself, dear." Maribelle cut him off. She'd not have somebody, friend or otherwise, questioning her decisions as a strong woman of high standing. Lesser nobility server greater nobility and they in turn dedicated themselves to the crown. "Do you wish to imply that I am not capable enough to protect myself? I find such a thing to be unsightly and offensive."

"No… not at all." Sirus' words brought her to silence. There were tears in those deep, dependable green eyes of his as well. _He was crying?_ Surely not? He'd proven himself capable time and again of doing his duty without letting his emotions take control.

"Milady…" For the longest time Sirus struggled against all of greater judgement, his notions of service and dedication, to keep himself in check. This time however, such a thing was quite impossible. The pain pulling at his chest was too great. "I've stood by you since we were six years old. I've witnessed a great deal of your joys and hardships…. Your friendship and companionship have humbled me beyond words… and I cannot bear the thought of seeing you come to harm."

"Speak plainly if you would, Sirus. Your sadness is causing me a great deal of unease." Allowing her noble stance to falter for a single instant, her porcelain façade cracking like a doll, Maribelle stepped forth, making her way from the mirror to place a kind, supportive hand on her bodyguard's shoulder. "If there is something that you wish to say… then I implore you to say it while we have a moment of privacy.

"Come now," she smiled – her way of trying to provide some much needed support. "I shall not judge you too harshly. You have my word, sir."

"Thank you, my lady." Sirus was grateful for her compassion and understanding. His attempt at pushing away the chaotic waves inside was a hasty one, drying his eyes, and forcing a smile as best he could. "Then… if I may speak honestly. Given all of the time I have sought to preserve your happiness and wellbeing… I fear the light in which I see you has developed beyond that of a mere friend."

"O-oh." Maribelle felt her face burning, a heat rising across her cheeks like no other. For a man to confess with such sincerity, and in a manner so forthright, is _indescribable._ To think, all this time she'd believed a handful of very different men in the Ylisse's noble circle had their eyes upon her, when in fact, it was the man closest of all. "Sirus…. You must forgive me, for I know not what to say at this instant. This is very… _sudden."_

Of course, it would come to this. Sirus knew that look in Maribelle's eyes – the look of conflict, of indecision. What a fool he felt now. He'd allowed himself to speak out on behalf of untethered sentiment and now, at a time where more than ever he needed to be collected, the atmosphere between them would be stifled, _difficult._

The best thing to do now was apologize. Apologize and leave before this failure of a love confession became any more. "Milady." Sirus bowed his head again – rising and taking an abrupt step back toward the entryway of Maribelle's tent. "I've spoken out of place and it was not proper for me to do so. I humbly ask that you forget about the things I said. For now, I shall take my leave and allow you to prepare for Lady Lissa's arrival."

Maribelle didn't catch much of what he said. She was far too busy, wrapped up in her own little land of sentiment. Just as Sirus had surely questioned himself to reach such a conclusion with his feelings, she too had to ask herself a handful of important questions, in fact. _What was the proper thing to do here?_

What did she want, compared to what was expected of her as a lady of an esteemed house? To bring one of a lesser standing close would mean disrepute, but- but-

This whole situation was truly frustrating. Maribelle shook her head, catching sight of Sirus as he neared the exit of her tent. She looked him over, memories too playing over in the confines of her mind. Memories a dozen strong, some beautiful, some saddening, but all of them ultimately treasured.

Time and again, this man, with his tall stature, emotionally-attuned personality and gentle disposition, had been the truest of friends to her, only outmatched by Lissa herself. He'd held her hand many a time in their youth, they'd sipped tea, gone shopping in the market for many an item that took her fancy. They'd shared their deepest secrets, too in youth, something that hadn't happened as they grew older. The binding chains of society no longer allowed it.

Maribelle felt a thump in her chest – a weighty, rebellious pang of compassion surging somewhere deep within. A smile had found its way across her lips. A smile on behalf of all the wonderful moments.

"Sirus." Her voice stopped him – held him in place as he stood on the verge of leaving. Ever caring, ever loyal, he turned around again, waiting with the expression befitting that of a sad puppy dog. "Please do not leave with such haste. I'd like very much to say something before you do."

Without a word, Sirus returned to the side of his noble mistress – waiting patiently, unable to dispel the nervous sickness swimming in his stomach. The air felt thick, palpable. It was difficult to breathe, all of the sudden.

"Milady." In the end, it was the only word the young gentleman in velvet red could find. His eyes widened slightly, greeted by the sight of Maribelle's dainty hand. She held it out for him, an expectant flash in her eyes speaking loudly.

"Take my hand, dear friend." It wasn't right for a lady to fracture the heart of a man who so obviously held nothing but honest love toward her. Maribelle had learned well from her dear mother in that regard For once, if only for an instant, she'd adhere by what she wanted. "If you so desire to be my suitor then I will give it due thought… but first-"

The blush across Maribelle's cheeks surged even hotter. She couldn't back away, not now. Taking measure of the thumping red core within, she breathed deep. "I humbly ask Sirus… that you swear your honest and loving intent toward me. Please… grace me with a kiss and tell me that your heart beats true."

Sirus could do little more than chuckle softly – it was proving a real fight to keep the joyous pangs within from spilling out all over again. "But of course, Maribelle. I'd do anything for you."

Kneeling, Sirus placed his lips upon the back of Maribelle's hand – savouring the moment – the feeling of her angelic skin against his.

Maribelle exhaled. She couldn't stop a darling giggle from escaping. As Sirus rose again from his knees, she reached out, placing a hand upon his cheek, caressing with her thumb. To know that he of all people felt so strongly toward her, brought a rising sensation deep inside, as though a thousand butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Indeed, a mixture she could only describe as truest wonderment.

"Thank you, my dear… for your honesty, and your continued consideration for my safety."

"As always, milady," Sirus replied, he too reaching out and setting his hand upon her shoulder. Another small showing of just how much he ached to be close to her.

Maribelle met his advance with one of her own – closing the gap and placing an arm around Sirus' waist. Now was her chance – the sole opportunity she had to break the chains of birth and do something that if she were in the presence of her highfalutin family, she'd be reprimanded for to no end.

Leaning in – bright, fiery and heartfelt – the gap between herself and her dearest guardsman all but shattered, she closed her eyes, breathing softly, nose twitching at the warmth of their closeness.

Their lips touched under the candlelight, Maribelle sighing softly, savouring the taste of another, subconsciously moving, her desires acting as a guide, to run her fingertips through Sirus' wavy golden blond strands.

_She loved him too, regardless of status, and obligations be damned._

As their lips parted, the two of them joined by a single strand of glistening saliva, Maribelle exhaled hard, resting her head upon his shoulder. She'd give him her word as binding from this moment onward. The word of a noble lady to join two as one.

"I shall always treasure you, my darling protector… no matter what the future may bring."

**To be continued...**


	2. Dreams and Passions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really happy to see so many people enjoyed this short story I put together. That said, I thought I'd carry it on and write some more. Would you like to see the feelings and sentiments between Maribelle and her bodyguard grow? Well, read on and you'll see what I have in mind next.
> 
> For those of you that want to read some more Awakening tales, I have two other projects right now. One of them is a Robin/Severa story called Our Little Secret, and the other is a Robin/Nowi story, Dragon's Lament.
> 
> Now then, let's get started!

Maribelle would so often indulge in daydreams about her most treasured past. Those long summer mornings spent bathing in the sun on the family estate, marvelling at the beauty of the singing birds and the plethora of vibrant flowers. Those long winter evenings wrapped warm and cozy beside the fire – her maid preparing the tea as she eagerly awaited a visit from Lady Lissa. Indeed, how she missed those times of wonderful youth. There were so few worries. She had her place in life, true, but the strings of her social standing didn't bind as strongly as they did now.

Even as the rain poured outside, turning the pathways into muddied quagmires, soldiers hurrying back and forth between the armory and the barracks after their training drills, Maribelle took a great deal of enjoyment in losing herself within a place of her own creation, though she loathe admitting it. She'd been taught from a young age to hold herself with poise and grace, but sometimes, doing so made her everyday life so very quiet and lonely. Few people called her a friend - _a real friend._ In fact, the vast majority only sought her company for the repute and good favour it would bring in return.

"There were only two of you who cared for me with honesty and true kindness." That was still the case now, it seemed. Maribelle ran her fingertips across the edges of her lips, shadowing the place where Sirus had so tenderly shown his love in the week prior. "Goodness. Here I am, taking leave of my senses once again. Come now, Maribelle. You mustn't let somebody see you like this."

Instead of basking so openly in the warming glow of remembrance, the highborn lady felt it proper to close the opening to her tent first, doing what little she could to block the rain and cold. It was then and there – safe from the prying eyes of the servants and those who so loved to gossip, that she sat down upon the edge of her bed, wrapping herself in a blanket.

Was it wrong to want with such diligence to forget about the cold reality of war? Was it wrong to hope with quiet idealism, even if it were nothing more than a fleeting dream, that life could return to the way it was before all of those terrible Risen creatures began to tear through the countryside?

People in her closest family circle surely would have called her a weak-willed for such a childlike wish. Maribelle however, simply shook her head, basking in the sweet embrace of a simpler time. She'd take pleasure in whatever she wished behind closed doors, and any who disagreed with her would be escorted out of said doors and left in the rain.

The simple act of closing her eyes brought a moment of much-needed peace for the regal blonde lady. She could see the flower gardens all too clearly – the gentle thumping melody of her heart quickening in excitement as she again returned to one of her most treasured instances as a girl.

* * *

There young Maribelle sat – adorned in her finest knee-length frock as she chuckled with glee, picking a lovely daffodil and breathing in its sweetened, almost honeyed scent. Her maid wouldn't return to collect her at father's behest for at least another hour, and that left her with more than enough time to enjoy the day.

The sun shone brightly in a cloudless blue sky – all as the sound of gardeners and the housekeeping staff chattering filled the air. It was so wonderful to play outside when it was hot like this, and Maribelle felt even happier about having somebody to share this day with, free at last from her lessons and lectures.

"Sirus," she called out cheerfully, her smile brighter than even the summertime weather. Where had her friend gone? He was here just a second ago. Had he decided to wander off and hide from her again? How he loved to do that - so mean. "Where are you? Please don't hide from me…."

"I'm over here," Sirus' soft, gentle voice rang out from just across the pathway, past the tall, swaying sunflowers. Strange, he was down near the thorny rose bushes now was he? "I'll be right back! Promise."

"I told you not to leave me on my own." Maribelle held her hands against her hips, a haughty little madam through and through. How rude! Sirus was here to spend time with _her_ and he'd gone off on his own. "Stay where you are! Ready or not… I am going to find you."

Getting up and tottering along the sandy garden path in her polished black shoes, Maribelle went along her way, feeling so quickly irritated as she stomped past a great many of the gardeners, each and every one of them bowing politely and stepping aside for her as she continued on, past the tall oak trees.

"Sirus?" The noble girl looked around the huge, sprawling rose bushes on her tiptoes, a great many of them far too tall for her. No. There was no sign of Sirus at all. Where was he? Now she felt lonely – a sad feeling swimming inside. She wasn't allowed to cry, though. Not with so many people who could see. A lady had to be strong and proud!

So, doubling down on what her dearest mother had said so many times before, she held herself tall, clapping her hands with authority, aloof and befitting. "Sirus… if you do not come out I'll be quite displeased."

"I'm right behind you, milady." The feeling of a soft hand on Maribelle's shoulder was enough to bring her to flinch. Breathing a sigh of relief at last, knowing finally she hadn't been left alone, the girl swung around with flare.

There Sirus stood. Even though she was relieved to see him, taller and two years her elder, wearing his signature household outfit, blond hair scruffy and his bright red waistcoat, she'd not let him see that. If anything, she had to do what was right and tell him how to behave properly.

"When a lady asks you to stay in her company," Maribelle frowned, trying her best to copy mother in that same way she'd so often told off her servants. "She expects you to stay with her… not to be cruel and leave her alone…. Is that the correct way for a noble boy to act?"

"I'm sorry, Maribelle." Sirus paused and gave a bow of the head in apology. Good. Such a response was passable. Maribelle let her frown slide now, especially as he raised his hands in offering, a small, red rose held between his fingers. "But I wanted to give you this… my way of saying thank you… for always being so nice to me."

Such a gift was pretty beyond words – a small moment of surprise washing over the young lady. Her cheeks heated, something she wished to pretend was the work of the midday sun, but it sadly wasn't. How kind! A boy had never presented her with a flower before. Roses were her favorite.

"I so solemnly swear, milady, on this gift," Being polite, Sirus bowed on hand and knee like a true young man of his standing, placing the gift between Maribelle's fingers. He hid his face from her, suddenly seeming so shy. "That I will always see you as my dearest friend. If you ever need me… then you need but call my name and I'll come running."

Water misted Maribelle's eyes, her feelings fluttering within in a way she'd not felt before. It seemed Sirus had even gone to the effort of having one of the gardeners pluck the thorns so she could hold this pretty little flower too.

She had to do something to show her thanks – it was only proper. Maribelle first checked that nobody else was around, prying eyes to report back to father. She'd be scolded, no doubt, if she showed too much kindness.

Alas, in a short breath, "Quickly Sirus, come with me," she pulled her friend out of sight and hid behind the roses.

A sigh of relief left Maribelle's soft pink lips - thankful for the moment or peace. They were alone now. Nobody would see them here.

"Sirus," holding the rose betwixt the fingers of her left hand, Maribelle flipped back her finely curled ringlets of blonde, unable to hold back a sheepish chuckle. "My thanks. Tis so kind of you…. No boy has ever given me a gift before… or called me their friend."

Maribelle gave a curtesy, closing the gap to hold Sirus in a soft hug while they had a moment of privacy. To feel close to somebody like this was nice in a way she couldn't describe. Indeed, no matter what happened, she'd never forget this day.

_Her dearest companion, and aside from Lady Lissa, her only true friend._

* * *

A tiny yawn echoed across the tent – Maribelle opening her eyes as she was freed from the embrace of sleep. Dreams so often acted as wonderful doorways. No memory, no dream in fact, was sweeter than the first time she'd been given a flower, gifted such a beautiful rose.

No longer did the rain pour outside. It was quiet and peaceful now, and with that in mind, the noble lady was finally able to centre herself. To think, since Sirus had so boldly admitted his sentiment toward her, these dreams of days long since passed were becoming far more frequent.

Regardless of the fact, Maribelle smiled, taking measure of her heart and its every passionate thump within her chest. How she longed to be beside him again, even if it wasn't proper, even if those terrible whispers would no doubt spread across camp if people saw her sneaking out in the middle of the night.

"Regardless of what is right and what is wrong," she whispered quietly, heat rising across her body, sizzling with loving sentiment beneath her skin. To feel like this, so impassioned, was so unladylike, yet to say she craved yet another kiss, another embrace, was to admit the truth. "I know all too well what I desire."

She longed to be touched again, yearned to be kissed, craved to feel the touch of her darling protector, so much that it brought a wave of heat, a desperate, ache of frustration to present itself between her loins.

Maribelle rasped, unchained again from the trappings of a lady, wriggling in discomfort as her womanly passion swelled. Nobody would see her. Darkness had long since fallen outside of the tent – the sole illumination within being the orange hue of candlelight.

"How base," Maribelle mocked herself in vain, her quivering hands sliding her leggings and frilly pantyhose past her sweat-glistened thighs and down to her ankles. Red faced and beautiful, she eyed her erogenous flower, swollen and seeping with nectar. "I am a lady of birth and status… and yet I cannot resist my own desires."

Bringing her left hand downward, _the hand she always used for such a dirty act,_ Maribelle spread herself wide, slipping her slender digits inside to fill the empty, crying void. Oh, how she wished so desperately to be filled by that loving fool of a bodyguard of hers, but for now?

_Fingers would have to suffice._

Their love would be seen as dirty. Her family would frown upon their bond, and she would risk losing everything if she caused such a bridge in the social ladder. A highborn and a lesser noble? Unthinkable. Yet if there was one thing Maribelle was sure about, above all else as she took slow, sensual thrusting movements with her digits, stretching wide. It was that such love, such passion, if she were ever to attain it with Sirus, _would feel simply heavenly._

**To be continued….**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! I thought I'd try and strike a balance between sweet and passionate. Did you enjoy the read? Would you like to see more in future? Feel free to leave some feedback and share your thoughts.
> 
> As always, keep on supporting Fire Emblem and I'll see you in the next chapter!


	3. Lissa's Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone. How about another chapter of Highborn Beauty? Before we begin however, a couple of updates. First up, I hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas. Secondly, this story now has a piece of artwork for its first chapter up on DeviantArt. For those of you who'd like to take a look, go find me over there. My user is practically the same.
> 
> Be prepared for some more character development and world building in this next part. Please enjoy the read! I'm grateful for all of the support this little tale has received so far.

If there was somebody, above all else, that Maribelle knew she could trust to keep her secrets close, to protect her noble heart and all of its many desires safe from harm, it was Lady Lissa. Since those long-faded but cherished days of childhood they remained fast and dependable friends against all odds.

"I wish to tell you something of great importance, Lissa." She placed her teacup down against the finely polished tabletop, fingers knitted together, silently cursing the warmth taking hold across her cheeks.

"Go ahead, Belle! You know I'm here for you need a friend. I can see it by the look you have there - like a lost puppy. There's something on your mind." A knowing, teasing smile from the young princess set the tone perfectly. Although she played the prankster and the fun-loving girl so very often, at heart she was a true royal, clued in and thoughtful when she had to be.

Such a trait was one of many that Maribelle had come to respect over the many long years in Lissa's company. She sighed, still unsure of where to begin, absentmindedly stirring her tea with a petite silver serving spoon. _Okay. Now is the time, Maribelle.  
_

"My dear Lissa," Maribelle began softly, brushing aside her unease and getting to the point before the many weighty conflicts within became too troublesome. It was foolish to worry like this, especially when one considered that Lissa was already happily married as of a few months prior. "I believe I am developing romantic feelings that I can no longer keep in check. I wished to seek your council…. You have a loving husband, after all."

"Awwww!" Lissa chuckled aloud – holding a hand over her mouth. No doubt, she found such an admission to be heart-warming, especially in light of just how reserved a girl cut from finer cloth had to be when it came to her feelings. "I'm so happy you came to me first! Well… who's the lucky man? C'mon Belle… you can tell me. I bet there's a small army of guys who'd fall over the chance to take your hand."

Excited and childlike, Lissa stood from the table and sauntered across, taking Maribelle by the shoulders, stealing away her composure with those deep exalted eyes. So blue and thoughtful - enough to crack the composure.

"Believe it or not," Maribelle paused in light of her dearest friend's assumption, sadly pained by overly generous assumption. "Nery a single gent has come to my tent and spoken of his romantic intent toward me… _except for one_."

"My dear girl," there was something of great import that Maribelle needed to know. In her younger days she'd found intimate notions a difficult thing to comprehend, her station made time for such indulgences… _difficult. "_ I wish for you to answer a simple question for me."

Lissa eased back from her hold, bringing a pair of supportive thumbs up. "Go on. I'm at your beck and call tonight. Besides… you look so sweet with such bright pink cheeks. I've never seen you look so shy before, Belle. It's adorable!"

Disregarding that rather abrupt poke, knowing full well it came from a caring place, Maribelle readied with a deep breath, hands held tightly against her lap. Why had it become so damnably hard to speak of her feelings? It worried her, to think that she'd become so detached from such sentiments that those of a lesser station took for granted.

Gods, if the common folk working the fields from sunrise to sunset could speak so freely about matters of the heart then so could she! "If I were to ask you if you believe in the concept of true love, would you call me a fool, Lissa?"

"Of course not," Chrom's little sister chimed, placing her hands atop of Maribelle's – a steadfast showing of her care and support. It felt good, brought relief in fact, knowing one of her nearest and dearest at least somewhat agreed with her viewpoint. "Don't be silly, Maribelle…. I'd never say something like that!"

Now apparently even more excited than before, her delicate features alight with such obvious joy and curiosity, Lissa leaned in closer, quite the inquisitor when she wanted to be. It brought back staunch memories of the highborn court of justice, how men of valor and poise would stand there and resolve the issues of esteemed houses with words from the royal texts and steely glares.

"Well?" Maribelle found her thoughts pulled away from such memories, again by Lissa – who stood with her hands against her hips, determined to find the underlying cause of this great mystery. "C'mon… tell me. Who's the lucky guy? Is it Virion? Maybe even Gaius?"

"Heavens no! Calm yourself dear." Such suggestions brought an undeniable shiver. Virion, a poser with little in the way of sentiment. No doubt, he had many the notch of an unmarried lass on his bedpost. As for Gaius? Yes, the man had his heart in the right place, but to love a petty thief with such an addiction to treats? No. Such a thing would not do.

It was time to set the overexcited young lady back on the right track before she started throwing out all kinds of absurd romantic candidates. However, as Maribelle tried to speak, the words failed to leave her mouth – more of nervousness than fear of disapproval. Again, she cursed herself, taking one final moment to shake the unease of her raging heart free. It was now or never. Holding back like this would not solve a thing in the wider picture of this confusing game of emotions.

"The gentleman I refer to… is of course, Sirus." Finally saying his name brought with it a magnanimous feeling of relief, as though the weight of the entire world and its many problems had lifted from the shoulders at once. Maribelle felt some small, fleeting solace at the sight of Lissa's bright sunshine smile. "About a week or so prior he came to my tent and made his feelings known to me… swore his dedication with a kiss upon my hand… _a_ nd since that night I have struggled to rid him from my mind. _He is... all I think of as of late..._ "

It was for the best to omit the finer detail of the passionate kiss upon the lips they'd both shared. Such a memory would remain a guarded secret, the whims of a girl in love, reserved for the privacy of her tent after the midnight hours. To dive the depths of such desires before the wedding night? Well, it wasn't against any rules, no, but such a thing was surely reserved for the common farmer and his busty, ill-educated lass who worked the tavern.

"I should've known the moment you mentioned true love," Lissa took Maribelle's hands, holding them tight. There was something about her right now, everything from her strong, assured body language to the glint in her sapphire eyes told a story. "I've known for a long time how Sirus feels about you. It was kinda obvious. Do you remember the night your farther forbade you from coming to the royal ball when you were fifteen?"

It took not a moment for Lissa's question to bring back a slew of different images, colours and feelings. She smiled warmly as everything came together in a flash of festive fireworks, a lightshow all of her own – another memory to hold dear despite the chains of status which had so often bound her.

"Of course I do," Maribelle whispered in recollection, her hold upon Lissa's hands tightening the tiniest bit. "I had spoken out against my father's wishes at a gathering of the noble houses. He ordered I be confined to the estate and denied me the right to visit the capital for Lord Chrom's coming of age celebration."

"Exactly." Lissa sat again at the table, going back to her cup of tea with a mischievous smirk. "When I arrived to visit you that evening, with Frederick at my side… I _saw you and Sirus together in the gardens... dancing under the moonlight."  
_

Maribelle's eyes shot wide. "You did?" If she'd been holding her teacup right now the shock alone would have knocked it from her hand. "Goodness me…. _Why did you not say anything until now, Lissa?"_

"Because…." Oh how calm and in control the princess looked right now, positively enjoying every second of the red-faced torment she caused with her surprise revelation. "I didn't want to risk getting you into trouble. If your father had found you in the arms of your bodyguard-"

There was no need to utter a word more. Maribelle silenced her with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Darling, please…. If one outside the tent were to hear you then-"

"Oh hush," Lissa of course, in such calm and energetic fashion, shook her head, taking a hearty mouthful of tea before setting the fine porcelain cup against the flowery plate. "Love is love, Belle. It's not about standing and the place you come from. My sister changed the rules on common and noble marriages years ago!"

Emmeryn's most polarized ruling in her history as Ylisse's queen. While the common folks rejoiced over such a thing, the highborn houses were outraged. Many of the more influential lords took a stand against it, going so far as to double down in their traditions in protest. It left the nation in a strange place, one Marribelle knew all too well. Common folk could marry into riches if they wanted to, but seldom found the invite. Noble families that accepted lownborn stock into the household felt their reputations suffer, after all.

It was true that nobles and commoners could marry, but in the eyes of the law they were seen in two very different lights. The poor had almost no protection, all while people of high birth were almost untouchable.

"Besides." Lissa kept up in her energetic crusade of sorts. She truly was a supportive friend through and through. Maribelle frowned on the inside. Was the look of unease she held so easy to read? "Sirus is from a noble house, too. So your father can't object, right? If you love him then the two of you should spend more time together."

All of the sudden, Lissa sounded so very stern and serious, her usual happy outlook falling into something heartfelt, if a little sad. Pouring herself a fresh cup of tea, she gave a terse smile – one that hurt beyond comprehension to behold. " _We're at war_. Anything could happen. Walhart's men could launch an attack tomorrow and…."

"Come on, Maribelle, "To see this side of the princess, one of such maturity and level-headedness, demanded respect. The two years since the war with Plegia had so clearly helped the once innocent Lissa to grow up. "You've always been at my side and I'm so very grateful for that… _but you should allow yourself some happiness too_."

"It is not that simple." Maribelle thumbed the edges of her teacup as her thoughts ran in perpetual overload. It was nice to think such fanciful things, to be held and cherished by another, to wake up at the side of a loving husband each morning, to fight together in war and make tender love on cold winter nights. Alas, she sighed. "Lissa, my dear girl. I must admit that I am quite fond of your newfound diligence in trying to help me… but… my status holds bindings that even the rule of esteemed Emmeryn could not break. I cannot-"

"Don't be so silly." Lissa brought her to silence in an instant, lost in her own little world for the moment, it seemed. The expression she held, one of deepest compassion, _almost motherly,_ brought pause for thought. "I want to see you happy too! We always talked as little girls about marrying and going to battle for the kingdom… _having children…_ "

Suddenly, everything made perfect sense. For a little while now Maribelle had wondered why Lissa had been taken ill, received so many visits from the doctor, taken things steadier than her usual, tomboyish exterior allowed for. The way in which she sat upon her chair, so dainty and well-mannered compared to the norm, a hand held upon her stomach, illuminated the candles of revelation.

"You're- Oh my." Maribelle gasped. "Lissa… _you're with child_."

To think, that after all of their long-winded talks, evenings spent idling the hours away, discussing what they wanted to do with their lives when they grew older, that it would be Lissa, three years her junior whom would enter into the bonds of commitment, go to war beside a loyal, noble knight, and become a mother first.

"Darling." It took but a moment for move from her seat, throwing her arms around Lissa's middle in an embrace of warmest congratulation. She held her tight, uncaring of the protests she might have given. "This is truly wonderful news! How far in are you? Has the physician said anything of importance?"

"B-Belle," Lissa breathed frantically, wrestling her way out of the frantic hold they shared to catch a gasp of air. "Everything's fine! The doctor's been nothing but kind and caring. So far, she thinks I'm about eight weeks along. _You're the first person I've told_! Not even Frederick has it figured out yet. So dedicated to my brother that he's barely noticed."

Again Lissa was alive with happiness – caressing her tummy with a fondness most moving. She looked up from moment of musing to flash Maribelle with a look of encouragement yet again, as though silently cheering her on. It brought a lone, tiny tear to the eye.

"I'll be announcing my pregnancy in a couple of weeks from now," she beamed, reaching over to finish the last of her tea in a swift gulp. "Until then, don't worry about me. Heck, they say you swell up like a balloon but so far I'm fine. _Focus on yourself, Belle."_

 _"Are you asking me as your truest friend, or ordering me to do so as my princess?"_ Maribelle's attempt at a joke earned a giggle or two, and for that, she was thankful. Tonight's little meeting for tea and cakes had been filled to the brim with excitement, and such a thing was welcome with the massive armies of Valm lying in wait not too far away.

"A little bit of both," Lissa grinned, standing from her chair and edging slowly, carefully toward the entryway to Maribelle's flush, well-decorated tent. "Say…. I heard a couple of the soldiers mention that Sirus is training beside the lake right about now. _Go see him. G'night, Belle. Take care!"_

Training? Of course he was. Sirus never missed a chance to hone his skills. How he loved it so, not just because of trivial things such as obligation, but because he held a genuine fondness for the art of battle. Seldom did people of the highborn social circles approve of his way of fighting, the slick wielder of a blade and a roguish practitioner of hand-to-hand fighting, but what did one expect when his father hired a Feroxi swordsman to aid in his combat lessons all those years ago?

By the time Maribelle snapped from the oh so lovely images of Sirus sparring, his shirt open and beads of exertion trickling from her forehead, Lissa had already gone, leaving the noble girl to fan herself amidst the flare of passion.

Again with such yearnings. How uncouth. How… _terribly tempting_. Taking note of her thumping heartbeat, fighting with everything she had to resist the urge, the desire, to close up her tent for the night, blow out the candles, and _Indulge,_ Maribelle let out a frustrated sigh. Hands balled into fists, she threw back her golden ringlets in a huff and stepped out into the cool night air.

With the rest of the camp preparing for bed, the perfect time was upon her. She'd find Sirus now, and with her enflamed wanting, her fragile wishes as her guide, she'd take him into her arms.

_She would not back down until she had what was rightfully hers._

** To be continued…. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone. How about another chapter of Highborn Beauty? Before we begin however, a couple of updates. First up, I hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas. Secondly, this story now has a piece of artwork for its first chapter up on DeviantArt. For those of you who'd like to take a look, go find me over there. My user is practically the same.
> 
> Be prepared for some more character development and world building in this next part. Please enjoy the read! I'm grateful for all of the support this little tale has received so far.


	4. Beneath the Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone. I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Now, before we begin, I did a lot of research into Maribelle's background for this one. Thanks to a really detailed character spotlight video on YouTube I was able to find out more about the house she came from and everything.
> 
> My thanks to all of you who've kept with the story so far. I hope you like the new cover art, too. It's Maribelle together with Sirus. There's a full sized version available to look at over on my DeviantArt page, too. Credit to Corrupted Mooch over there for drawing it for me.
> 
> Oh, and one last thing. I know the rating has fluctuated between T and M for this one a couple of times, but the rating will be staying at M when the next chapter comes out. Now then, shall we begin?

Things were progressing almost too quickly. With time and numbers against them, the Shepherds and their Feroxi allies were going to rely on a bold plan put in Place by Sir Robin. Word had it that sizable amounts of Walhart's forces were under the command of a deadly swordsman by the name of Yen'fay, elder brother of the camp's most recent arrival, Say'ri. With two divisions of troops placed in the north and south, there was just enough time to charge head on and face Valm's southern division head on. In just two days, battle would rage anew. To Sirus, such a prospect meant one thing alone. _More training._

To wield a sword was to do one's duty in name of Prince Chrom and country. There was no room for error at times like these. With every slash, every well timed evasive sidestep, and every instant of testing one's mettle, the odds of surviving this terrible war became just that little bit higher.

"If this were about simple duty then I'd not take things as seriously as I do. However."

Maribelle's beautiful smiling face was at the forefront of most of his thoughts, as of late. He'd finally done it. Against his better judgement, Sirus of House Merantz had shared his long held feelings with the daughter of the Duke of House Themis.

"I expected her ladyship to react quite differently," Sirus spoke with exertion, his silver sword cleaving through the air with utmost precision. To think that after all of his worrying, nary another gent had come forth and asked for his lady's courtship. "Perhaps it was foolish of me to address the matter with as much worry as I did.."

Such a line of thought brought pause. Sirus skidded to an abrupt stop, dust kicking up from his polished shoes, and stabbed his blade into the ground. _Lady Maribelle Themis_ , perhaps one of the most powerful noble women in the entire country of Ylisse. She'd lived quite the guarded life under the watch of her father. A woman of two very distinct faces. _Two masks._ The appearance she wore in public, and the true side of her that a select few saw in private.

As far as the common folk were concerned, Lady Maribelle, almost twenty years of age, was the esteemed daughter of a duke. The heir to an entire house, she held powerful ties to the social elite. As such, Sirus of House Merantz protected her from harm and fulfilled his role with utmost professionalism. _Oh how the public had been so easily led over the years._

"The truth of the matter is far different to what people have been made to believe. Maribelle finds little solace in her status, and yet… very few actually see things for what they are."

Having stood at her side for so long, Sirus liked to believe he knew the _real_ Maribelle. Though she smiled and laughed, though she looked powerful, there was depth beyond words to her fragile sentiments. Ostracized by her noble peers and disliked by many, she was treated as an outsider amongst highborn circles. Sirus' posting as her bodyguard was proof enough of that.

" _Her father requested I be her protector because no other noble father wanted their son to stand in her presence. They thought it an insult. Aside from Lissa and me, she was truly alone as a young girl."  
_

To think on such matters brought nothing but deep-rooted sadness rising to the surface. Sirus pulled his sword from the earth and returning to his training, attacking the air to find some relief from his wayward thoughts.

"One." A slash. "Two." Parry. "Three." Guard and riposte. "Keep your mind free of burdens and your thoughts steady."

The rustling of trees brought a flare of warning surging across the young man's back in an icy shiver. With it being so late in the evening, nobody else in camp should have been awake. "Who goes there? Show yourself." Sirus brought his sword up, gripping the hilt with concentration.

"Hold fast. Sirus. It is I, dear. You can put down your weapon."

The sight of Maribelle's majestic blonde ringlets and her soft, well-mannered voice brought him to calm. Bowing his head in most diligent apology, Sirus lowered his sword once more. "Please forgive me, Miss Maribelle. I thought you a spy at this late hour."

There was little in the way of a reply. Before Sirus had so much as taken stock of the situation, he found a pair of arms wrapped around his middle in a gentle embrace, Maribelle's sapphire eyes gazing into him, twinkling against the moon's light as though stars in the sky.

Maribelle smiled sweetly, taking Lissa's earlier advice to heart and basking in what quiet comfort she could. The surprised look upon Sirus' smooth face was a remarkable sight, most assuredly. Did her sudden advance take him aback? Perhaps. She did not care, however.

"I wished to see you again, Sirus. " To speak the truth was for the best. After all, hindsight was not a gift most people held in any capacity. Even if it was not the place for a lady to be assertive in the game of love, Maribelle felt compelled to shred the rules and toss them to the wind. "Ever since you held me in your arms I have struggled to stop thinking about you…."

While Sirus was grateful beyond words to find his romantic sentiments returned, to be able to breathe in the honeyed scent of Maribelle's hair and hold her close once again, he could not hold back a rather panicked thought. "Milady," he began with quiet haste, his hold upon her slender middle tightening just the slightest fraction. "You must be careful…. What if somebody sees us together like this?"

"If people wish to spread insidious little rumours then so be it." Maribelle spoke contentedly, resting her head against Sirus' shoulder, nestling closer in light of the cold night-time air. Again, Lissa was right. The late Queen Emmeryn had changed the rules in regards to status years ago. Yes, it was for the best keep things quiet for the moment, but that did not mean relinquishing the flame of love within. "I'll not be told by any simpleton in this camp that I am wrong for feeling so strongly toward you, my darling Sirus."

"But of course, milady." It was impossible to hold back the joy within. Sirus smiled brightly, intent on treasuring this moment for as long as he could. To think that in a mere week that so much could change. To think, that beautiful Lady Themis would act with such vigor and pursue their love of her own accord. "I must admit that I am happy with your newfound… _dedication_. It warms my heart more than you know."

Maribelle chuckled softly, her eyes panning upward toward the sight of the pale, radiant moon. Its divine light brought yet another memory, this one of her younger teenage years, into focus.

"Do you remember when we danced together on the grounds my family estate? The moon was glowing then just as it is now. Though I have remained quiet about my feelings of that night until now… I want you to know that I never forgot the moment of fleeting beauty we shared that night."

She reached out and touched Sirus' face, caressing his cheek with delicate fingertips, lost in the shine of his emerald eyes. "We should dance together again when the war is over…. I shall wear the most elegant gown money can buy and be the most beautiful of all the ladies in attendance."

"But milady," Sirus spoke up, leaning in, their noses touching. Maribelle's heated, impassioned breaths tickled his skin. "You don't need expensive clothes and finery to outdo the women of other houses… _because you are already beautiful in my eyes_."

S-such forwardness. Maribelle rasped for breath, the heart within her chest pounding faster than words could describe. Her skin burned hot under such esteemed, charming praise, leaving her flushed and pink, fingers trembling as she gripped for the fine velvet of Sirus' coat.

"My dear." A heated utterance was the very best the highborn girl could muster. Her senses crackled as the flames of deepest passion invigorated her. Those longings she'd fought to supress in her tent after Lissa's departure were fast returning. "For saying such a thing without warning…. I demand that you kiss me, Sirus."

Oh yes, Maribelle craved his lips with such desperation, wanted nothing more on this night for her loyal bodyguard to show just how precious she was. If they were to go into battle together, then they would face the tides of war hand in hand.

"Your wish is my command, Maribelle." Sirus closed the gap, dizzied by the pounding of the red core within his chest. To be given such a command was truly delightful beyond words.

As their lips collided, two lovers locked in unbreakable bond with the shine of lunar light as witness, Maribelle moaned gently, her entire body falling limp in complete surrender. She lay lost in an endless sea of bliss, cast upon a gleeful ocean of her own creation as she savoured the taste of Sirus' soft lips.

She never wanted this wonderful instant to end. More than that, she wished to etch it upon her heart forever so that even on the rainiest of autumn days, there was a reason to look upon the world with happiness. Lissa was to thank for this treasured moment – for helping, her find the boldness to reach out and take what was rightfully hears.

"S-Sirus," Maribelle panted as they parted, flushed redder than one of the strawberry plants of her family home. She'd lost her footing, taken leave of her senses, was totally and utterly held within the embrace of her love, his smooth smirk lulling her into perfect surrender. "T-there is something I wish for you to know…. Tis… uncouth perhaps… but I cannot contain myself any longer."

"What do you desire, my dearest Maribelle?" Sirus had never seen such a look of… _heat_ on Maribelle's pristine face before. She looked to be so overwhelmed: held tightly in the vice of truest wanting with no way out. To bask in such a sight, to see his noble charge looking so _happy_ for once, was a true gift. "Speak your heart's desire and I shall give it my all to listen. _I am forever yours._ "

There was no easy way to speak from the heart on this matter. For what Maribelle wished to convey was perhaps far beyond socially acceptable for a lady, _especially an unmarried lady_. For the longest time, she tried, swooning in the safety of Sirus' protective hold. To unchain her desires, to let another see her in a way she'd until now reserved for the privacy of her tent, brought a nervous churn to the stomach.

Again, Lissa's words came to the forefront – the sight of her dearest friend resting a hand upon her stomach with motherly affection.

"The truth is… I want," Maribelle steeled herself and pushed on. She deserved to be happy and share her all with another. For too long the binding ties of noble birth had held her in place. Now, on this special night, she'd take what she wanted.

"Sirus…. I wish for you to escort me back to my tent. I can hold back what I feel inside no longer. Please, my beloved. I long to know what it feels like to have another caress my skin in the darkest of night…. I love you… _and I want you to be mine."_

"Milady," Sirus exhaled nervously, a tinge of worry overtaking his features. If they were to take things a step further then it was in his best interest to be noble, to tell the truth. "I too long for you… but I must first tell you that I've not spent the night with a woman before…. I do not-"

If anything, the honesty of Sirus' confession brought the weight of the world free from Maribelle's shoulders. _So, it was the same for him too. Thank the Gods for such a small blessing._ While she'd not expected her handsome protector to still retain his spark of innocence, such news was welcoming.

"If that is the case my love." Maribelle smirked knowingly, contented in finding her footing yet again. Aloof and back to her usual self, she stood tall and proud, reaching out in offering of her hand. "Then I humbly ask you to walk with me… I promise you, on my honour as a highborn, that I shall treat you with tenderness and compassion."

Sirus took Maribelle by the hand, giving a gentle bow of the head to show his thanks. "Please lead the way. As always, I shall be at your side."

**To be continued….**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. Another chapter finished. Is there anything in particular you enjoyed? Is there something you'd like to see in future? As always, I welcome all feedback and I'm grateful for your readership. Maribelle as a character needs far more appreciation.
> 
> As always, keep on supporting Fire Emblem and I'll see you in the next part! Thanks again!


	5. Heat of Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone. It's about time for another chapter, don't you think? I'd like to start by taking a moment to thank everybody for the continued feedback and support on this one. I must admit, I really enjoy writing Maribelle as a character. That said; hold on tight, because this next part is going to be quite hot-blooded for our noble lady.
> 
> I'll say no more than that, because I'd like you to enjoy the read. Let's get started, shall we?

A nervous moment of apprehension brought everything to a standstill. Maribelle paused, bittersweet as the reality of her current situation arrived with all of the grace and poise of a commoner. This was it – from tonight, she would no longer be an innocent girl, but a full-fledged woman in every sense of the word. To think, after all of those countless instances, those _hot-blooded thoughts_ she dared not share with another soul, that some of those very fantasies would become reality.

"Sirus, darling," she rasped, the air failing to reach her lungs, offset by a fierce thumping heartbeat. Flushed red, burning beneath her skin, she lifted her behind from the bed, assisting her love in the act of sliding her riding pants down to her ankles. She swelled with desire, her throbbing womanhood aching for fulfilment. "There's no need to hesitate…. _I wish for you to see me for all that I am."_

"But of course milady." In truth, though he'd never admit it, Sirus had dreamed more than once about this moment. The simple act of remembering filled him with a delightful fondness. It made acting upon his yearnings, the manly hunger he felt raging within as though an unchained beast, all the easier to acknowledge. "Rest assured… _I feel the same way_."

"You need call me by my name alone tonight," Maribelle responded in a short sigh. It simply would not do, having her noble protector referring to her with respectful titles. Not in this, a most tender of instant between two people brought together under the embrace of love. United in the flames of wanting.

Maribelle gave him a fragile smile, a consenting smile, again bringing her hips free from the bed.

"Please," she motioned toward the frills of her pantyhose with thirsty, pleading eyes of blue. To be overwhelmed by such base and animalistic desires, to have her body wail with such lust; worse still, to have her most _delicate place_ slick with natural womanly nectar, only made it made hard to restrain herself. "Remove my undergarments before this feeling overwhelms me. Call me a crude if you must… but I so desperately need relief."

 _Crude?_ No, if anything Maribelle was beautiful, almost angelic for struggling with her intimate needs. In fact, hearing her refer to herself in such a scathing way only brought Sirus, loathe to admit it as he was, to want her even more. Did his beloved lady wish to be treated as though she were some common tavern girl from the streets of Ylisse? Deep down, was this one of the ways in which she wanted to find reprieve from the binding shackles of her noble birth?

"It would be my distict pleasure, Maribelle."

Those sweet teenage dreams, those fragments of imagination. How did Maribelle look beneath the countless expensive dresses and elegant riding attire? Moreso, Sirus would not deny her. Nay, he'd not deny himself the pleasure of seeing her sensual body in the flesh, either. Smiling, charmingly, he clasped his fingers around the waistband of her underwear, slowly sliding it down past her ankles. tossing it aside.

"Sirus." Maribelle whispered weakly, bringing her bare, shapely behind down, dizzied ever still by the thumping of her heartbeat. The way Sirus' eyes trailed upon every inch of her soft, refined curves brought the pink hue upon her cheeks to deepen. Was this the gaze of a man who liked what he saw? _Gods, the unease was almost palpable._ "Does the sight of my legs please you?"

In all the years she'd known Sirus, Maribelle had heard countless tales, especially in their teenage years, of him frequenting the taverns of the common folk, drinking and making idle chatter under candlelight with the daughters of barkeeps. He hadn't, perish the thought, lied about his innocence and shared the bed of another woman, had he? _Surely not._

 _No. Of course not._ Maribelle floundered under such a notion, doing what little she could to force it from her mind. It brought her to worry. If such rumors were true, then how did she compare to other women? She'd not allowed Sirus the pleasure of removing her vest yet, either. _After all, her breasts were so… petite compared to some of the other girls in camp. Heavens… what would he do when-_

"You need not look so nervous." It took but a handful of calming words from her protector to bring silence to her damnable fears. Snapping free from the mire of discontent and insecurities, Maribelle followed Sirus' fleeting, gentlemanly features, watching intently as he cast aside his red coat, fingers edging across the buttons of his white undershirt and bringing it undone. _That chest of his… goodness it was toned and muscular._

"I'll speak from the heart…. The truth is… I have dreamed about this moment for a long time. You look even more beautiful than I imagined."

 _He'd been… dreaming about her?_ Maribelle froze, lost upon a raging sea of sentiment. _Truly?_ Sirus desired her so strongly to the point where he dreamed of her in the night hours? To think, all of the fears, the kind of concerns ill-befitting a highborn girl, had been for naught, because the object of her desire had too been looking upon her with longing.

"My dearest Sirus I- I truly cannot find the words to say." Perhaps instead, in these late hours, it was be fitting instead to show such feelings through actions instead of words. Maribelle smiled honestly, compassionately. Slowly, if not a little nervously, she spread her legs wide, the cool night air bringing the dampened petals of her flower to tingle. The warmth of her passions trickled down the inside of her thighs, warm and sticky.

 _She'd wear the mask of a highborn no longer._ From this moment onward, until the sun rose to bring with it a new day, Maribelle of House Themis was no different to any other woman; a woman who wanted more than anything else for her sensual prayers to be answered.

" _Do as your heart desires… my lovely young lord…."_

Such an invitation, one so forthright and born from compassionate intent, brought Sirus to relax. He'd finally admitted the truth of his teenage dreams, dreams which, as a man come of age, he was able to act upon at last. His roguish expression spoke what words would not. _Indeed, he knew exactly what he wanted to do._

"Well… if that is what you wish of me. _I so happen to want to please you…_ Be at ease, Maribelle…. I'm sure you'll enjoy this quite _intently_."

Slow and steady, Sirus moved back across the bed, sliding his hands beneath Maribelle's behind. Squeezing down tight, and granted with a yelp of approval on behalf of his beloved, her breaths turning ragged, quickening alongside the soft, impassioned jerks of her lips, he brought her clear of the bed, sinking his head between her pristine, shapely legs.

"G-Goodness…. D-Don't stop." Maribelle threw her head back, a fiery cry of enjoyment ripping free from her lips, bouncing with a gentle echo across the four walls of her tent. Sirus… he was- _He was inside her…_ his long, moist, attentive tongue lashing against her inner walls, powerful and paced, teasing, tantalizing, _and licking her beauty spot clean._

Oh how this way of giving a lady pleasure was so common, so vile… _so wonderful_. So many times before Maribelle had looked down upon _those kind of women,_ working girls of common stock who so readily took men to bed outside of marriage, only to make love to them like animals trapped in the thrall of instinct. Now, however? As dearest Sirus held her up her behind, and attended to her _needs_ in such a _dirty_ manner?

"M-More. I beg of you… S-Sirus…."

 _Maribelle loved every second of it_ , the electrifying feeling of every tender kiss Sirus placed upon her intimate lips, brushing the tip of his tongue between her thin strands of natural golden hair to massage her opening. _Heavenly. Simply heavenly._ With a thinly veiled shriek, she bucked her hips, matching her love's movements with those of her own, fingernails scrunching around the sweat-dampened bedsheets below.

Until now, Sirus had only imagined the sight of his gorgeous Maribelle's most special place. To see it with his own eyes, so petite and so finely shaped - terse golden hair, and dripping with _natural nectar._ It was enough to make a man lose sight of his restraints, to cast aside his decency and give rise to his inner lover. _Deeper. It was time to go deeper_. Sirus wanted more, to lap up everything his noble lady had to offer, to savour the sweet taste before swallowing it all down with gluttonous glee.

Sirus sallied forth, venturing further with his rebellious tongue, caring not how Maribelle squeezed so tightly under such heaving, unrestrained throws.

"Please…" To be brought so close, to be mere inches away from being able to touch the doors to Naga's heavenly palace themselves, Maribelle reached out, dirtied, sweating, heaving for breath and so deeply loving every moment of it. "I'm almost- I'm- I'm _SIRUS!"_

A flash of purest white burst forth, claiming everything in its purest perfection. Maribelle squeezed down, a heated wave of purest relief washing over her lower half, uncaring as the waters of love leaked forth in a powerful torrent, splashing against Sirus' attentive lips and soaking the bed below in a darkened puddle.

* * *

Sirus edged back, licking his lips clean. Swallowing every last drop of his reward, he flashed a deadly wink. Swing a sword he most certainly could, but sometimes, indulging in the art of romance was far more enjoyable. Just because he'd kept his purity to this point, it didn't mean that a couple of times on the long roads across Ylisse there hadn't been… _moments_ were he'd kissed at the neck of a travelling merchant woman with fiery red hair, or caressed the ample buxom breasts of a flirtatious tavern girl. Such fleeting instances, hidden away in wine cellars and beneath the hay in the back of carts, outside of Maribelle's sight when he was privy to free time, only made him more astute in the ways of pleasing the ladies. Tonight?

He'd pleased the most important lady he knew – the lady he loved whole-heartedly.

"Maribelle." Sirus cooed his ladylove. That look in her eyes, so hazy as though she'd been struck with a bolt of fire magic. He'd seen that look before. _Maribelle was lost somewhere in her own little world_ The final act, the final climax, taking her body for its own. _"You taste wonderful…."_

After minutes of silent, steady breaths, her chest rising and falling, Maribelle finally regained regained the strength of her body, reminded of the unsavoury, damp mess between her legs. _Oh now that wouldn't do at all._ The lady scoffed, giving an arrogant frown. She'd not be left so dishevelled, glistened in sweat and unclean.

Sirus' was the one who placed her under his spell, who had brought her to a plateau of purest ecstasy, only to sit there in the aftermath with a devious look upon his features. She expected, no, _she wanted more… and she would not stop until she got what was rightfully hers._ This suave, skilled swordsman of powerful red? _He was hers to command… lovingly of course._

"What do you think you are doing?" Maribelle frowned playfully, impatiently, exhaling sharply as her glistening legs came down against the bed anew. "To attention, sir," she commanded, clapping her hands together, flipping back her ringlets, aloof and entitled. "If you truly enjoy the taste of my passion then you shall come over here and finish what you have started…. _Lick me clean… I demand it."_

A mocking, impatient huff of a spoiled princess. Maribelle winked. Getting on her hands and knees, her perky backside on full view for Sirus to enjoy, she arched her back forwards, resting her head of blonde, ringed curls against the plush cream cushions, emblazoned, as she lay there, frustrated over the stickiness betwixt her lips. _Terrible. Simply terrible. It hadn't been too long since her gorgeous instant of release… and yet, she couldn't stop her greed, her urge for this special evening to continue._

A command was a command, even within the privacy of the bedchamber. Sirus was in no position to refuse. It was his duty to bring the gift of romance to this snooty woman. _He'd do it,_ for the good of his career of course, he jokingly thought.

"As always, I am at your beck and call… _Milady._ If you so desire it then I'd best obey your wishes." Sirus shuffled across the bed, stopping just a few short inches away. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to make things interesting. Reaching out, giving the most rugged of smirks, he brought his fingers outstretched, _rewarding Maribelle's tort buttocks a slap._

"Ooohhhh my." She didn't seem to object. More than that, in fact, she broke out in stiff shudder, the redness upon her cheeks deepening. If they were to blow out the candles at this very moment, no doubt Maribelle would give off her own natural glow of intense crimson.

"Sirus, darling," she breathed out stiffly, giving a wiggle to signal her approval. "That felt… _nice._ Do it again, won't you?"

"Yes, my dearest."

Bringing his hand down a second time, marvelling at the strangely pleasing sight of Maribelle's powerful shudders, Sirus prepared to continue his servitude. In just a few short days, they'd be returning to battle against Walhart's forces.

_What better a thing to do right now in the depths of night than enjoy the moment?  
_

**To be continued….**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. So… that was a little more intense than the previous chapters. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it all the same. Would you like to see more scenes like that one in future? As always, feel free to leave some feedback and let me know what you think. I really do appreciate the opinions of all my readers.
> 
> As always, keep on supporting Fire Emblem. I'll see you in the next chapter! Again, my thanks!


	6. Devotion and Duty

**Devotion and Duty  
**

Demon's _Ingle._ The place upon which a battle for the very survival of Chrom's army raged. With Walhart's superior forces unmatchable in an all-out fight, there was but one option. Robin's fine use of strategy. Though the Dynasts had betrayed the forces of Ylisse in the last battle, there was still hope. Slim hope, but hope all the same. Victory would come through driving a wedge between the armies of Valm. Victory through bravery and wit, not raw strength.

At this very moment, in the crater of an active volcano, surrounded by ash, smoke and heat, Chrom's brave soldiers fought against the odds, putting everything on the line. Victory was impossible, some had warned the young prince. Yen'fey's men did battle as though demons, every stroke of their blades both masterful and deadly.

In the midst of all this, Sirus stayed at the side of his dearest Maribelle. Neither spell nor steel would bring her to harm as long as the heart within his chest continued to beat.  
 _  
_"Peace be with you in the next life, sir," Maribelle galloped forth, uttering words of magic and mysticism. The tome in her hands glowed with radiant gold, a spark of lightening crashing from the sky, consuming a nameless soldier. He fell to the ground, smoking and silent, his broken sword clanging against the molten dirt.

"Hmph," Maribelle flicked back her ringlets, a bead of sweat sliding down her forehead amidst the godless heat, "still this rabble persist. There is no end to them," she sighed, exhaling, looking so very tired, so very worn down, "no matter how many we strike down they keep coming."

"As is the case in a battle, my good lady," Sirus answered, pulling his dagger from the neck of a soldier, slowly, respectfully bringing the young man down to the ground, saying a silent prayer in respect. "Rest in peace."

All the while, Chrom and Robin lead from the front, their swords doing the talking in place of words. T'was so very like them. _Men of action and not words,_ Sirus reflected, taking his place beside Maribelle's horse. "Do you need to catch your breath? You look as though you're tired."

Maribelle scoffed, waving off the suggestion. "The very notion of sitting back while the others do what is expected of them is simply ghastly. I'll do no such thing."

An abrupt answer, but one Sirus was expecting.

"Giddy up now, girl." Maribelle gave Bella, her devoted, purebred steed a small smack of the reins. She whined, loud and discontent, remaining rooted to the spot most firmly.

"I think she's scared," Sirus was nowhere near skilled when it came to matters of the equine, but the look on the poor horse's face spoke volumes. "With all of the smoke around us I cannot say I'm surprised."

Maribelle gave a deep, apologetic sigh. "Yes, you're right. Forgive me. I've been pushing her far too hard as of late."

She looked to Sirus expectantly, "Help me down, won't you? I'll continue on foot from here."

"If that is what you wish, milady."

Sirus hesitated in fulfilling his instruction. Maribelle had the luxury of a fleet escape so long as she sat atop of Bella. On foot she'd have no such lifeline. As much as Sirus cared for her so, she had never been the most athletic of women, either. _Running about and being damp with sweat is so unsightly,_ she'd often say whenever a task more befitting of her servants came about.

"What is wrong, Sirus? You look concerned."

"Nothing," Sirus assured her with a smile of fragile confidence, "stay close to me. We are outnumbered here and my duty is your safety."

Sirus slipped his hands around the girl's slender waist, using his strength, easing her to the ground. Maribelle smiled in thanks, unclasping the top buttons of her regal, frilly vest shirt amidst the heat. "Nonsense... I'll have you know that I am more than capable of protecting you, too. With that out of the way, let us be off, shall we?

"But Marib-"

Her eyes of blue sharpened like knives. "Very well."

Proud, aloof and beautiful. Maribelle to the letter. Sirus shook his head, defeated. As much as he wished to protest, especially with battle afoot, the clattering of steel and lances against armor, it would do him no good. Maribelle stayed strong, hands on her hips. A woman with no intention of backing down.

"Let's be off," she spoke, gentle but somehow still commanding, something of a trait of hers. "I'll not hang back here while Lissa waits ahead."

"Lead the way," Sirus bowed. His frustration rose, especially as he watched Maribelle walk on, her head held high.

A pang of guilt, or perhaps a twinge or revelation. In days past Sirus had done what was needed of him. He'd acted as Maribelle's sword when she rode into the fray with the rest of the Shepherds. Likewise, he'd acted as a shield to keep her from harm... but he'd never feared for her with such intensity.

Their time together, and their romance, nay, their passion... had changed things.

"Fool... you're letting your feelings for her come ahead of your duty."

A weakness in need of atonement.

* * *

"The days almost won," declared Chrom, raising the Falchion high and leading his soldiers one last, valiant charge. "Let's finish this, everyone!"

"Dammit all," Sirus cursed, taken aback by a few larger concern. "Where did you go?"

He'd taken his eyes off Maribelle for nothing short of a handful of fleeting seconds. And somehow, some way, amidst the ash and billowing black soot, Maribelle had vanished, shouting something about Lissa before leaving his sight. Chrom might've been right. This battle might've been close to done, but that didn't change a thing for the blond-haired rogue. His charged, the woman to whom his life was tied eternal, was nowhere to be seen.

Worse still, a strained glance of the battlefield gave way to the sight of nothing but countless soldiers and swordsman exchanging blows, all as sparks flew between passes.

"Out of the way," Sirus kicked a Valmese soldier in the gut, knocking the wind from his sails and ploughing the man effortlessly into the volcanic underfoot, "I said move!" He shouted, panic rising, drawing his dagger and plunging it into the chest of another, ripping it free in a single harsh turn of the wrist.

The peons in his way weren't important. The only thing of any value was finding-

"Maribelle..."

Sirus skidded to a stop, broken from his headlong rush. There was no mistaking such prominent blond hair and such a refined, regal face. There she was, bold and unafraid at the front of the entire army, spell tone hugged tight against her chest. She stared down a mighty samurai adorned in blackened attire, a katana clutched with skill and precision within his hands.

"You're brave, girl. To stand toe-to-toe against me and not even flinch. Tell me. What name do you go by?"

"Maribelle... of House Themis," the highborn lass declared with her signature aloofness, flipping back her perfect ringlets. "I'll go so far as to assume you're the enemy commander, Yen'fey, correct?"

"It seems you know me," he closed the gap, blade at the ready, its fuller shining against the light. "Then what say you? Will you stand aside and let me do battle with your master, Chrom? Or must I cut you down?"

They reality finally sunk in, Sirus' heart increasing to an uncontrollable melody, terror taking hold. _Maribelle, you idiot,_ he cursed. She intended to fight the Valmese leader! Had she taken leave of all rationality? The man was six feet tall, his skills pronounced by the Ylisseian blood stained upon the steel of that sword of his. And still she wished to fight him?!

"I'll not step aside for the likes of you," Maribelle stayed the course, all while Sirus felt the blood freeze solid within his veins, "It's disgraceful to see a noble swordsman like yourself serve a barbaric cur such as Walhart. I'll put you in your place for such poor judgement."

Yen'fay didn't budge an inch, "In that case," he turned his katana onto its side, holding fast, "Show me the mettle of your people. I'll even give you the first strike. Can your magic book overcome the technique of Chon'sin?"

The world slowed to a painful sluggishness. Sirus bolted as fast as his legs could hope to carry. Maribelle let loose with a mighty fireball, only for it to zip past its intended target as Yen'fay sidestepped, clean and effective. It hurt to breathe, Sirus' lungs squeezing tight as he pushed with everything the gods would grant.

"A valiant attempt."

A buzz of speed, and a flash of silver. Yen'fay lunged. Maribelle looked on in horror, a dear caught in the trap of a hunter, a hail of arrows about to rain down upon her head. Her fingers squeezed against the cover of her tome, frightened defiance ever-present.

"MILADY! FOR THE LOVE OF NAGA... MOVE!"

Weapons clanged as Sirus bellowed, the visceral string of hardened metal slicing into his side. The corners of his vision pulsated. Horrible coppery red spilled from his lips. Duty was seldom painless... but alas, duty had been done. Sirus locked eyes with a bewildered Maribelle. She caressed his face with shaky fingertips, her anguished tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Why?" She whimpered, a broken sob muffled against Sirus rouge coat as she held on with desperation. "Why would you do-"

With the last of his strength, the open air lashing against his gashed ribs, Sirus smiled bravely. He squeezed Maribelle with all he had left, shaking like a leaf astride of a storm."Because... it's," he winced, leaning in to place a faint kiss upon Maribelle's glistening forehead, "my job to... guard you."

There was not a thing to regret. No matter how the highborn beauty wept. "My life for yours, Maribelle. I'm thankful to have... served you."

Coldness swept over, contrasting sharply, dulling even the burning of Demon's Ingle. Sirus breathed softly, his world becoming black. And his heart becoming slow. _You're safe, Maribelle,_ he told himself with dedication, as the encroaching blackness, deathly as a Risen, sank in its jagged talons to drag him away.

"Sirus... No... SIRUS!"

Maribelle's scream ripped across the battlefield.

** To be continued... **


End file.
